He Loves Me Not
by Luna C. Starque
Summary: Eric Cartman is in love, and has been for a very long time. He can't help it that his crush is the person he's supposed to hate more than anyone.


Eric Cartman was in love. At age fourteen, he was just as fat, angry and resentful as he'd been at age nine. He'd hated almost everyone for as long as he could remember, and now the feeling that was twisting his insides and slowly taking over his entire being was foreign to him. No matter he'd felt this way since he'd first set eyes on the object of his affection-- it made him uneasy to feel this charitable towards another human being-- to feel so out of control, especially because Eric Cartman was in love with the worst possible person.

He slowly melted as he sat in his seat. The summer heat and thoughts of his crush kept a steady trickle of sweat dripping down his face. _If we were together, _he thought. _What I could do with you..._ He was roused from his reverie by the voice of Mrs. Garrison.

"Okay, class," she drawled. "Who can tell me how many Jews Hitler had killed in the Holocaust?" Eric's heart skipped a beat as the hand of the one he loved shot into the air.

In that split second, a desperate thought flitted through Eric's mind --_Notice me_-- and without hesitation he opened his mouth. "Not enough of them!"

Kyle Broflovski withdrew his hand faster than he had raised it as he whipped around in his seat to glare furiously at Eric. "Shut the fuck up, fat-ass!" he shouted. A wave of emotions hit the overweight teen one after the other: excitement (_he's talking to me, he's looking at me!_), anger (_Oh no, he did not just insult me. He'll get it for that, he'll--_), and then, finally, lust. Kyle was gorgeous. Not short, but not exceptionally tall, he was thin without being scrawny. His skin was creamy pale, and Eric loved envisioning how Kyle's bare skin might glow in candlelight.

At that moment, as he looked into Kyle's face, the rest of Eric's reality ceased to exist. All that mattered was Kyle. His brown eyes, glittering with hurt and hatred. His cheeks, now flushed with anger. And his beautiful red hair, framing his face like a fiery halo.

Eric could no longer see anything but Kyle clearly. A rushing noise had filled his ears, deafening him to everything but his and Kyle's ragged breathing. Even the discordant tones of Mrs. Garrison had ceased.

It was Kyle. Only Kyle. His kindness, his innocence, his seeming uncertainty of his place in the world.Eric felt a strange kinship to the boy, in that respect. _Do you think I'm comfortable with myself? In _this _body? _He wanted to hold the smaller boy to him, to comfort him when he was sad, to apologize for all the times Eric had ever hurt him. _I don't really mean it, _he would say as he showered the redhead with kisses. _I just want you to notice me as something other than a friend, something more than a friend._

And at the same time, all Eric felt was an overwhelming desire for him. He wanted something to love and pet and pamper when it was good, and to beat and scream at when when it was bad. He wanted a human pet. Eric had a strange feeling that Kyle would put up with it, too, but he wasn't sure why.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" asked a wary- and irritated-looking Kyle. "What are you, gay?"

"What? No!" Eric said, panicked. "You wish!"

"Eric, I am sick and tired of your disruptions!" interjected Mrs. Garrison, apparently determined to at least pretend she was actually in control. "I want you to apologize to Kyle right now, do you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Kyle." He noticed that his statement hadn't come out as flippant as he would have preferred. "Now, Kyle," he continued, "Turn around and let Mrs. Garrison get back to whatever the hell she was talking about."

"Wait-- what? It's over? Just like that?" Kyle looked confused.

"Yeah. Now shut your mouth and turn around!" Eric could hardly repress the urge to kiss said mouth any longer. He couldn't bear to see it there, feet from his own, Kyle's lips pink and smooth, just begging to have Eric's tongue thrust between them.

Then, after an eternity, a very taken-aback Kyle turned back to face the board, and Eric could finally breathe again.

He hated Kyle. He hated how he lost control at the very thought of the redheaded teen, how his body went into overdrive at the sight of him... how he was so close, and yet-- completely untouchable.

God, Jews drove him crazy.


End file.
